Grey Dawn
by Fuyu no Akegata
Summary: Just a little fic written for a prompt from Vernajast and because I needed something to fulfill my angst quotient. Semi-AU, post-Kyuubi where Minato didn't die. Kakashi is 17ish. Minato and Kakashi re-establish boundaries after an estrangement.
1. Quiet

FIC Grey Dawn, Part One - Quiet

_Beloved, Grey Dawn Remix - VNV Nation_

_It's so quiet I can hear_

_My thoughts touching every second_

_I spent waiting for you_

_Circumstances afford me_

_No second chance_

_To tell you_

_How much I've missed you_

Just a little fic written for a prompt from Vernajast and because I needed something to fulfill my angst quotient. Semi-AU, post-Kyuubi where Minato didn't die. Kakashi is 17ish. Overall rating M.

It had been a long time, a few years, actually. Neither brought up the fact. It stirred up too many memories, best left unmentioned, not forgotten, never forgotten. Their last mission together, they had been a team, broken, cracked at the edges, but still, essentially a team. A team of three. And the mission before that, they had been four, back when they were strong and whole, together.

They couldn't even honestly say they regretted what had happened, the two disastrous final missions of Team Minato. That implied they would do differently if given the chance, and none of them could really have changed their choices, not as they had been then. In their defense, they had been true to themselves, to their beliefs at the time. But that hadn't been enough to stop what happened. They couldn't stop what happened. And now there were only two. Drawn close, but pushing, falling apart.

Kakashi was all business, as Minato had expected. He missed the days when it had been just the two of them, before they were four. Before the closeness was strained, before the smiles came to a halt. He'd grown, he noticed, and realized with a pang that Kakashi had turned seventeen over two months past, was just shy of his own height, now. He was still thin and lanky, but he'd broadened through the chest a bit, grown sleekly muscled. He looked like what he was. An assassin, paid killer. His mind whispered the word. ANBU. He moved with a deadly grace that had only been hinted at when he was young. Minato should feel proud that he had helped train such a shinobi for the village. But instead, he mourned the little boy he'd first met twelve years ago. He'd been quiet then, not silent. Minato much preferred people to tools.

Kakashi moved swiftly through the thinning treetops, communicating only in sharp, abrupt hand signs, only when necessary, keeping his distance, mentally and physically. Minato wanted to shake him. No one else could hear or care if Kakashi called him 'Sensei' instead of 'Hokage-sama,' or 'Yondaime-sama.' No one here to complain about liberties taken if he called him 'Minato,' just once. And he wanted to hear his name from those stubborn lips. He only now knew just what he'd been missing, what exactly he'd lost in his life. Even silent and stiff, unyielding, Minato needed him in his life again.

He looked as if he needed Minato, too. Or someone. Anyone. The uniform clung tight, stretched thinly across his body, but his armor wasn't as snug, even cinched as close as it would go. He'd lost weight recently. Minato cast back over reports from the last several months, trying to remember just how many missions the man had taken. He frowned when he realized the number, the difficulty, and knew he probably hadn't recalled even half of them. He decided despite the extra work for his office assistants, he'd add a list of those very details to his monthly reports when he got back. He needed to know when his shinobi were being overextended... or doing it themselves. The more Minato thought about it, the more he knew Kakashi had become like this the day they'd lost her. Hard. Cold.

They ran without word or rest until late evening. Kakashi was pushing them hard, and despite sparring, training, Minato was slightly winded, even a bit sore. Damn being Hokage anyway, the paperwork, the meetings, the formality, and everything else that had changed, kept him away from missions, from the day-to-day contact with his shinobi... from Kakashi. Kakashi silently unwrapped a ration bar and brought out his bedroll, obvious in his intent to take the more difficult second watch. Minato sighed, but even this didn't extinguish the small bit of pleasure he got in being out of the village, away from prying eyes... together again with Kakashi.

He unwrapped a ration bar as well, wishing Kakashi wasn't so stubbornly pig-headed as to deny them a plump, juicy rabbit or some grilled fish. They were still within the borders of Fire Country, if barely. He absently crumbled a drifting, gold leaf, inhaling the dusty scent and took another bite of the bar, scowling slightly. Damn, but he hated this new honey and spice bar. It was dry and near flavorless, for all its claims of spice. The old, discontinued peanut butter one was much better. Moist, chewy, flavorful. He sighed again. Then, as Kakashi lay down for sleep, he smelled the faint hint of peanuts above the dry smell of leaves scattered about their campsite. 'Brat,' he mumbled under his breath, uncaring if he heard.

He woke to a clinging dampness. Mist obscured everything. Tiny droplets would have made everything sparkle with tiny, brilliant rainbows if there had been any light beyond the faint grey marring the darkness towards the east. He stretched, trying to work a stubborn kink out of his back, and wondered if the sun was taking the day off, or maybe sleeping in. He smiled at his own joke, and turned to share it with Kakashi, but the man was nowhere in sight. Kakashi returned shortly, dropping from a tree with two apples and a handful of nuts.

Minato would have kissed Kakashi where he stood if he'd brought out a thermos of good, black coffee, but he wouldn't complain about the breakfast. It definitely beat another ration bar. "Thank you, Kakashi."

He only shrugged and set half of his offering on a flat rock before taking up his pack and leaping up again into the trees.

"Kakashi!" Minato called out. He leapt to a lower branch and seated himself comfortably. "You know it's unsafe to eat while running. Choking hazard." He tossed the apple once, almost able to feel the masked scowl aimed at him. He knew Kakashi was close by, knew he would have stopped the moment he hadn't felt Minato's still unhidden chakra following behind him. "So you might as well come out, because I'm not eating until you show yourself and come have breakfast with me."

Kakashi came into sight on the limb above, walking upside down, and dropped, flipping mid-air to land lightly by his side. He slid the porcelain mask to the side of his head and pulled the fabric down around his neck, carefully keeping any emotion, any hint of irritation from his features.

Two out of three masks gone. That's as much as I can hope for, I suppose. Minato bit into the apple, and a bit of juice ran down his chin. He smiled at the taste of the tart fruit, but was careful not to let any juice get on his clothes or the rest of his skin. He knew the scent would linger and Kakashi would fret that it would compromise the mission.

Kakashi carefully cut into his apple with a small kunai, eating the slices straight from the blade, sliding them into his mouth with no wasted motion. He cracked the nuts open with the handle of the weapon, sweeping the shell fragments into his hand when he was done, to bury along with the apple core.

Minato continued at a slightly slower pace, cracking each nut against the shell of another until the last remaining one. He grinned at Kakashi, tossing it into the air, zapping it with a small spark of chakra, and it split neatly into two pieces, each landing in his outstretched palm. "Still nothing to say, Kakashi? Not a 'Good morning, Sensei,' or a 'You should conserve your chakra and not waste it on frivolous tricks, Hokage-sama?'"

Kakashi re-capped his canteen and stood abruptly, readying himself to leave.

"No, Kakashi. Sit! And for once, listen to me, don't just hear the words." Minato wanted to get to his feet and pace, but he held the desire in, needing to explain this in a manner Kakashi would understand. "We were a team, Kakashi, and we are again. Have you forgotten everything you ever learned from me, from them? This isn't what you learned about teamwork from Obito at Kanabi Bridge, Kakashi, or what you learned about working toward a common goal with Rin in Mizu no Kuni."

Kakashi recoiled as if slapped, and Minato knew he was listening, albeit reluctantly.

"Rules and regulations are important, but they aren't everything. How you interact with your team is as important. You can follow every rule to the letter and fail a mission because your team doesn't trust you. Your team can trust you implicitly, but you can lose their trust or worse, their lives, and fail the mission by ignoring the rules heedlessly. You need to discern when rules may be set aside, Kakashi, and temper your judgment, so you return home with your team intact and the mission complete. Balance the components. I'm proud of all you've accomplished, but you can always improve or learn more. So can I."

Minato paused for breath, and his eyes were bright with memories and unshed tears, both for those they'd lost and for what it had done to the two of them, especially Kakashi. He'd started to change, had truly learned from Obito's loss. Then they'd lost Rin so soon after. And each other as a team. They were no longer sensei and student, had become Hokage and ANBU. They'd lost their easy closeness, but Minato wanted it back. Surely they could work and regain some form of their bond?

"Despite being Hokage, the Council allowed me on this mission because my skills are necessary for its completion. They assigned you to protect me and to assist in completing the mission because you're one of the best damned shinobi we have and because we were a team. When you refuse to acknowledge that bond, you handicap us, put us at a disadvantage. I can't work this way. Don't be a silent shadow, Kakashi, or refuse to acknowledge what we had, what we were, what we still should be. If you truly don't care, put a kunai to my throat right now, here in Fire Country, before we cross the border, before we put our own people at risk to recover us or clean up the aftermath of a botched mission." Minato held his own blade out to Kakashi, waiting.

"I don't believe you don't care, Kakashi. You lost too much, withdrew too far, but deep down, you do still care. And I'm as much, even more to blame by being so busy as Hokage that I didn't do anything about it. Come back, be with me again, be part of this team, even if it's just for now. Please?" Minato dropped the kunai to the branch with a clatter, tiredly fell to his knees beside it.

Kakashi's voice was husky, as if rusty from disuse, or fighting emotion. "Yes, Sensei." He knelt beside Minato, head bowed, still quiet, but no longer silent.

Minato placed a hand on Kakashi's shoulder for a moment, just touching him, being with him again before letting go and rising to his feet. "Thank you, Kakashi. I've missed you. Now that we've got the mushy stuff out of the way, we do need to move out, though. You don't plan on pushing harder or faster than yesterday, do you? That damned deskjob is taking a toll on me." Minato grinned down at Kakashi as he got to his feet and jumped to another limb. "I'll take that as a yes," he chuckled, as Kakashi flew through the upper branches.


	2. Remember

FIC Grey Dawn, Part Two - Remember

_Beloved, Grey Dawn Remix - VNV Nation_

_My beloved do you know_

_When the warm wind comes again_

_Another year will start to pass_

_And please don't ask me why I'm here_

_Something deeper brought me_

_That I need to remember_

Fic written for a prompt from Vernajast and because I needed something to fulfill my angst quotient. Semi-AU, post-Kyuubi where Minato didn't die. Kakashi is 17ish. Overall rating M.

Thanks to Ofuda for the beta and meta :)

It hadn't taken much to jog their memories or to recall seemingly unrelated things to mind. Scattered remnants, tattered reminiscences were tossed over a shoulder or into the air ahead. Surprisingly, though, Kakashi had offered the first remembrance, at a spring-fed pool surrounded by boulders. Minato was lying on his back, staring up at the clouds as Kakashi washed and refilled his canteen. He had brought back two shiny, ink-dark pebbles, one for them both. "Like Obito's eyes... before." He shrugged and carefully placed one into the hand of the man who had been his sensei for so long. The cold, damp, still ungloved hand lingered a too-short moment. Minato stared at the stone, then at Kakashi, only able to nod, and quietly placed the small rock into a pocket before they set out again.

A large patch of mushrooms prompted Minato to share a memory of Rin's healing jutsus, not because the mushrooms were of any medicinal value, but because she had dearly loved eating them, and healing was such a part of her. They talked about healing jutsus for a short while, also trading stories of significant injuries from the times they'd been apart. Minato's were older. As Hokage, there weren't often many opportunities for injury, and Kakashi's weren't exactly unknown to him; Minato received copies of all injury reports for his shinobi. Still, this was the first time they'd shared the tales.

Once again, Kakashi surprised Minato, solemnly admitting he still carried the small medical pack she had gifted him with on his appointment to jounin. Neither mentioned Obito's gift. It wasn't necessary, and it was unlikely either would ever forget, especially not when there were already those calling him Sharingan no Kakashi. He wasn't sure he wanted to know if Kakashi carried the kunai with him, as well. The sky began to grow dark, and Minato grew silent. He pressed Kakashi to go faster, although he knew it was impossible to outrun remembrance.

Minato leapt from branch to branch following Kakashi, never slowing, never hesitating, despite the rapidly failing light. Limbs showed black against the purpling sky, still blushing rose and peach and gold to the west. They were both quiet now, this close to their destination. It wasn't precisely the synchronous bonding they'd shared once in a distant past, but each apart had grown in ways to compensate for it.

They finally slowed a short time later, as they saw the flickering glow ahead in the darkness. They could make out the boundaries of the estate as they drew nearer. Kakashi led them around, circling, scouting, checking the layout, gauging the security of the place. Minato nodded, satisfied everything was as specified in the mission scroll. They settled into a tree to watch, waiting for them to settle in for the night. After a glance at Kakashi, letting him know his intentions, Minato settled into a light trance state, meditating, resting, and focusing his chakra for the upcoming night's work.

Minato came to full awareness slowly; Kakashi was leaning close, a gloved hand resting lightly on his right shoulder, signifying safe waking. A quick glance at the twinkling stars confirmed the time lapse. Most of the earlier lights were extinguished or dimmed. He stretched his muscles, one at a time, cracking his neck to rid himself of a particularly stubborn kink. The noise was loud in the night; the all pervasive drone of frogs and summer insects was long gone, but the deep, cushioned silence of winter and the first snows were at most a month away. Small creatures moved through the branches of the trees, the leaves on the forest floor. Minato never quite felt at ease in the late autumn forest. It felt too much in between, held too many memories, too lightly veiled the signs of nature's impending sleep.

He smiled wryly to himself when Kakashi turned his back as Minato quickly stripped and changed into a dark kimono, hakama, and haori. He leaned against the trunk of the tree and donned matching tabi and zori. Kakashi remained in his ANBU gear. His appearance was of no special importance, because none who saw him tonight would live to tell of shinobi shadows. Minato channeled a quick burst of chakra and activated the special hiraishin tag on a kunai and passed it to Kakashi, who strapped it to a sheath on his forearm. He knew Kakashi was remembering another tagged kunai, another mission, just as he was. It was unavoidable. But there were no Iwa nin here, no bridge to be destroyed, no team of children that would be sent to be broken during time of war. Just a lone ANBU sent to wreak havoc and ensure he returned safely, mission complete.

Once Kakashi threw the kunai, Minato's part in the mission was done, and he would have mere minutes to escape. Timing was doubly, even triply critical with Minato visible and dressed as a civilian. Whether Kakashi threw the blade with the objective complete or compromised would remain to be seen and Minato tried not to think about leaving Kakashi alone and overrun by enemies. He supposed it was inevitable, working with Kakashi again after all these years, that memories just wouldn't stay buried. He would have to make the decision Sakumo couldn't all those years ago, and leave his team behind, or more than the mission would fail. He was Hokage now, couldn't be recognized, captured, killed. It would weaken the village, risk war. He forcibly stopped that train of thought. It would only undo all the calm he'd tried to bolster himself with earlier. But he silently damned the council for their incessant messages and mind games. Even here on a mission he couldn't escape reminders of them.

They readied their two small packs and placed them deep within the branches of a thicket of dense-growing pines, setting chakra tags to destroy all evidence if they didn't return by dawn. The final preparations before they set out were completed soundlessly. It wasn't stiff-necked silence from Kakashi or worried caution from Minato, though. They'd never needed words to express themselves to each other. This was something they'd done so many times over the years that verbal communication wasn't necessary, would only get in the way and slow them down. There were no words, but there were speaking glances.

The porcelain dog mask was tugged up and to the side until they left to complete the main objective of the mission, and blue eyes slid across moon pale skin, seeing the young man his student had grown into, telling him how proud he was, letting him know how happy he was to be with him again for even a short time. The single storm-dark eye relented in some of its customary reserve, letting the other know he had missed him as much, but also informing that he knew his duty, that he knew this was the only way they could share what they'd had, he would never trespass beyond what was expected of a shinobi, an ANBU of the Hidden Leaf to the Hokage. Gazes led to small touches, intense brushes of hand against shoulder, shoulder against chest, arm clasped in arm. They straightened armor and clothing and gazed, drinking in the sight of each other, both indulging in this stolen contact for a few brief moments.

There were overtones now that had not been there, before, intimations of satisfying heat and pleasurable darkness, gratifying desperation and thundering release. Minato shuddered, not even realizing what he was letting trickle through to Kakashi, almost daring to imagine the unbidden images came from his former student. Stuff of fantasy and black, sleepless nights when he couldn't ignore the ache anymore and finally fell asleep just before dawn, sweating, panting, exhausted, his body sated but his mind unfulfilled and guilty. Dream nights when they were no longer sensei and student, just two friends, lovers, partners in every sense of the word. Despite, or maybe because of it, maybe only due to passing time, then, as always, Kakashi pulled the mask into place and made himself go as cold and aloof as possible, pushing away, withdrawing, lest Minato's feelings and anxieties get the better of him and ravage the unaffected, emotionless mindset battle required of them both.

Minato took a deep breath, reaching for his previous calm, stilling his thoughts, cursing himself for getting carried away twice in such a short period of time. This is a mission, baka, a mission with Kakashi. Act like you're the teacher and not a second year student. He tried to ignore the fact that it was because it was Kakashi that he was losing control. He didn't like to admit that, even to himself.

He forced himself through a series of quick mental exercises, and when he felt he had sufficient control over himself, he looked up at Kakashi, and couldn't help sharing the feral grin, the just short of manic gleam he knew was in the now-veiled eyes. They'd never truly forgotten this, the loved/hated thrill, the repugnant yet enticing sensuality of the hunt. They'd share this beyond the day either died. The rush and the thrill of the mission, despite the bitter, vile, unspoken things they sometimes did. The ease of long association came back without thought or conscious direction. They were ready. Two shinobi of Konoha nodded as one and faded into shadow, springing into the quiet night.


	3. Feeling

Grey Dawn, Part Three - Feeling

_Beloved, Grey Dawn Remix - VNV Nation_

_My beloved do you know_

_How many times I stared at clouds_

_Thinking that I saw you there_

_These are feelings that do not pass so easily_

_I can't forget what we claimed as ours_

Fic written for a prompt from Vernajast and because I needed something to fulfill my angst quotient. Semi-AU, post-Kyuubi where Minato didn't die. Kakashi is 17ish. Overall rating M.

**Warnings**: This chapter is hard R, for dark, mature themes. Implied abuse/rape/murder necessary to plot, not gratuitous, but it's only mentioned in passing. Gore and battle scenes. Profanity.

Two guards from the Uragare estate smiled and nodded to each other as they walked from the shadows into the fading pools of light and remnants of laughing sound surrounding the main house. They hadn't entirely missed the day's festivities. They served a fair master who ensured the guard roster allowed ample chance for all to share in celebrations when possible. Neither had seen anything worth sharing and turned, moving back into the night. Mere moments later, a silent shadow peeled itself away from the darkness. It almost stopped to look across the courtyard where surely another shadow already scaled the wall to the second story.

Minato berated himself for his delay. Kakashi was already well on his way to completing his part in the mission, and he hadn't even gotten inside. He quickly slipped through the door. Once inside, he moved openly, decisively, as if he had every right to be there. Nothing screamed intruder more than stealth or hesitance. He found the stairway, passing only a quietly giggling couple in a shadowed alcove. They would say nothing, would be too unwilling to risk their own discovery. He breathed more freely now, laughing inwardly at his earlier fears. He might be a bit out of practice, but Kakashi surely wasn't, according to the reports even now sitting on his cluttered desk back in Konoha. Kakashi was more than competent and would stand guard and keep him from being discovered while he planted the false information in this minor lord's study.

One, two, three... He tried the next door. It was locked, as he'd been told to expect. A few seconds work with a senbon and a whisper thin trickle of chakra and the door opened easily. He slid the long sliver of metal back into the seam of the haori and lamented not having his normal complement of weapons, although he smiled at the thought of the many weapons pouches and jounin vest atop the traditional garb. He didn't need them, of course; one didn't reach kage level without being skilled in the ninja arts. Still, his own weapons would have given comfort, of a sort. He knew their placement on his person, their exact balance. Any new configuration slowed a fighter the smallest fraction of a second. He stopped that line of thought immediately. If the mission went as outlined to them, there would be no fighting for him, and if it didn't and there was fighting, he carried a wakazashi and tanto, which would be more than enough protection against the few guards here.

The wards around the low window-side table that served as a desk took a few minutes to unravel; he examined then minutely, slipping through small holes and weaknesses rather than breaking them and leaving evidence of his intrusion. Four scrolls were pulled from inside his wide sleeves and slipped in among the others piled in a basket beside the table. He glanced out the unshuttered window and thought he saw a shadow flitting away from the guardhouse. Kakashi has disabled most of their weapons, already. That was fast. He slowly pulled away from the window. One person looking up at the wrong time seeing him there was all it would take to plunge them into a maelstrom of chaos not easily escaped. Stay focused but don't start thinking negatively. Everything is moving smoothly, all according to plan. We're almost done.

He pulled free from the warded space, taking his time, leaving absolutely no trace, and backed towards the door. No sound came through the portal, so he exited the small study. There were still no interruptions, no one in the hallway. It was almost too easy, but he supposed he should have realized Kakashi would never do his job halfway. Now all he had to do was place the ceremonial dagger in the proper bedroom as he'd been instructed and wait for Kakashi's thrown kunai to signal the all clear so he could escape.

He was a bit annoyed at the fact that he didn't know the significance of their actions; he was Hokage of the village and knew no more about what he was doing in the greater scheme of things than a genin reading the objectives for a B-rank mission. Still, it was good to be out of the village and on a mission, especially with Kakashi, so he couldn't be too upset, and he was well suited for what had been required. He turned a corner in the corridor, and walked past closed doors, one on the right, two on the left, and stopped at the next one the right hand side. The door slid open easily and he pulled the dagger free. As he leaned forward to hide the dagger within the folds of the futon, the hair prickled on the back of his neck. He whirled around, dagger in hand, just in time to see another body enter through the door adjoining the next room.

"Where is she, what have you done with Kousen, you monster? I didn't want to believe, but you're here with your bloody hands!" The other man advanced toward him, voice panicked and shrill.

Minato held his hands out to his sides, in plain sight, maneuvering carefully so as to not threaten the clearly distraught man. "I don't know what you're talking about. No one was here when I came in. I must have entered the wrong room." He tried to bluff his way through until he could escape.

"Filthy liar!" The other screamed. "Her maid just came to me and told me what you did! And now she's gone!"

"I didn't do anything! This is all a misunderstanding. I'm sure she just left the room for some fresh air or something, and she'll turn up somewhere..."

"Misunderstanding!? The misunderstanding was coming here, thinking to ally our families! You're nothing like your brother, after all. We'll be lucky if Kousen ever turns up, and if she does, it will be face down in the river! She was just fifteen, you bastard!" The young man was shaking, trembling and pale.

Minato finally reached the windowsill. He needed a distraction to escape. He looked down to find the dagger still clutched in his hand. He took careful aim and threw. The man dropped to the ground with a cry. Minato didn't want to have to kill or even wound the younger man, but he had to get free. The elaborate sheath came to rest by the wall next to the young man, but Minato was already gone, the jeweled blade tossed haphazardly to land amidst the rumpled bedding as he jumped out the window.

He scrambled down the wall partway and leapt to a nearby tree, pulling the dark haori coat around his head so only his eyes showed. He hid in the shadows, waiting for the signal from Kakashi. Stupid, stupid mission and I'm a baka three times over for not asking more questions. Something is definitely going on here that I have missed. And where is Kakashi? He listened carefully, trying to distinguish sounds from his shadowed perch in the treetops. He thought he could detect a disturbance inside the house, but it was hard to tell over the fading remnants of merrymaking coming from the dining hall. He had an odd feeling about this whole mission.

Then it was almost as if the thought had summoned him. He felt the little tug of chakra that told him Kakashi was finished and they could leave. He transported to the spot. He was just outside the guardhouse. Through the broken window, he could see Kakashi standing in a large room looking as if he had been busy, indeed. Dents and rips marred his blood spattered uniform and the fabric mask was ripped and hanging around his neck. He pulled at the door, but it was locked tight. He gathered his breath to call out and see if Kakashi was all right when the door behind Kakashi crashed open. Kakashi spun around, ninjato in hand, and the sound of the blade slicing through the air was almost audible to Minato, standing outside.

Two men fell with the first strike, and he flung a kunai into another's eye within seconds. A poisoned shuriken dropped another to his knees before the remaining six rushed him. Minato could only watch from his position outside, not even able to use a jutsu to help or burst open the door. Their instructions had been very specific. No chakra use except for getting inside the wards of the study and the hiraishin as they left. Neither left much of a lingering residue to track them by if this minor daimyo had access to any skilled nin to hunt them down. Kakashi hit one of his assailants in the stomach, bringing an elbow down on his neck and taking his spear even as the metal head snapped off. He used the impromptu staff, circling and striking, making his attackers back up and keep their distance.

Minato hadn't watched Kakashi fight or spar in almost two years. He had never been clumsy, graceless, although he had been bit off-balance for a few months after he had gained the sharingan. But this... despite the danger, Minato could not help watching, admiring the way his protégé danced, leapt, spun, a whirling dervish of death. Kakashi smashed the iron clad butt end into one man's chin, and saw the sickly red stain on the wall as the head burst open like a soft, ripe melon. The staff continued its arc and he spun to strike another would-be attacker across the torso with a sharp thwack that left him gasping, bright red blood bubbling from his lips where broken ribs had pierced a lung.

Kakashi jumped high in the air, flipping and coming down behind one of the men, pulling a length of chakra wire tight around the man's throat, twisting so the garrote held as he snapped the neck of the man who rushed him from the other side. The remaining two pulled out of range, slowly circling, looking for any opening, any weakness. They struck quickly, almost at the same moment, coming from opposite directions, and Kakashi jumped again, this time kicking one of the men in the teeth and plunging a kunai across the other's jugular on the way back down.

He gathered his weapons and dispatched the dying, leaving no trace behind him other than the scattered bodies. Minato knocked on the window to get his attention just before one last body hurtled through the open portal. Kakashi was facing Minato, but spun, bloody kunai still in his hand, and striking without thought, found himself staring into surprised blue eyes, almost hidden by messy, bright blond hair. Kakashi stopped, watching, blinking at the almost familiar expression. He froze completely and Minato felt queasy as he looked into near identical features on the face of the dying man. Shit. Fuck! Did they think this wasn't important enough to be on the mission scroll? I'm eight kinds of a baka for not asking more questions. I was too excited to be leaving, and with Kakashi. They counted on that, I'm sure. Fucking council and their fucking hidden agendas.

They needed to leave. Quickly. He knocked on the window, trying to get Kakashi's attention again, to come open the door. Kakashi was still, unmoving. He pounded at the window, on the locked door, but there was no reaction. Neither of us will get out alive if he stays like this, Someone screwed up the intel, or worse, and if we don't go now, we're screwed, too. Fuck the directives. Minato gathered his chakra, letting the swirling, tightly focused sphere of wind spiral through the thick, reinforced door. "Kakashi! We need to go, now. He wasn't even sure if Kakashi heard him. He was standing, ANBU mask pushed aside, ripped fabric puddled around his neck, face blanker than the masks. Blank except for his eyes, lost, mismatched pits of despair.

"Kakashi?" Minato pulled on the gloved arm, wincing at the clammy stickiness and the thick, coppery, iron-tinged scent that made him want to rid himself of every meal for the last two weeks. Kakashi dropped to his knees in a puddle of gore, clinging to the cooling body. "Kakashi!" Minato cursed, quietly, but intently. Fluently. Desperately. "Forgive me." He leaned forward, reaching for the pressure point, pulling the limp ANBU across his shoulder when he collapsed, running for the welcoming shadows.


	4. Cold

Grey Dawn, Part Four - Cold

_Beloved, Grey Dawn Remix - VNV Nation_

_It's colder than before_

_The seasons took all they had come for_

_Now winter dances here_

_It seems so fitting don't you think_

_To dress the ground in white_

_And grey._

Fic written for a prompt from Vernajast and because I needed something to fulfill my angst quotient. Semi-AU, post-Kyuubi where Minato didn't die. Kakashi is 17ish. Overall rating M.

Thanks to lecanis, frackinsweet, and frickencheng (Lady Kementari) for discussion, input, and beta work.

He made it to the walls quickly, but there were men everywhere, many more than they'd been led to believe. He dodged, he dashed, keeping to darkness when he could, running as quickly as possible when he couldn't, plotting his path carefully to minimize exposure. He spared no thought for the successful completion of the mission. At this point, he didn't know exactly what that entailed, or if it was even possible anymore. He, personally, would not count it a failure if they merely reached the borders of Fire Country alive. But obviously the council had differing views on what constituted success on this mission, since they most assuredly had other objectives than the ones laid out in the mission scroll he and Kakashi were given.

He searched for the best place to reach the top of the wall. This stretch was relatively lacking in tree cover on both sides. It would be difficult, but not impossible. He heard the buzz of the arrow just in time to duck, blessing his luck that the fletching had bent enough to alert him. Archers. Fuck, fuck, fuck. He shifted Kakashi on his shoulder, wincing when the hilt of the tagged kunai poked him in the side. The kunai! That's it! He funneled a burst of chakra into the tag, reactivating it, no longer worried about subtlety or finesse or stealth. He draped Kakashi over his left shoulder and pulled his arm back, letting fly with both strength and chakra. The kunai finally slowed, embedding itself in a tree over half a mile away. He felt the tug and willed himself toward the seal, holding tightly to Kakashi, and they materialized in the trees as another flight of arrows raked the darkness they'd just left.

He didn't stop for breath, just began leaping, jumping, pushing off from limb to limb, boosting himself faster, farther, higher, using as much chakra as he dared. The wind began picking up, making his footing more treacherous, and he resignedly watched the occasional flickering of distant lightning across the sky. It was never comfortable being caught out in a late autumn storm, but a steady rain or downpour would definitely hinder pursuit.

Almost two hours later, they neared the little spring-fed pool where they'd stopped earlier that afternoon. He cast out behind him, seeking signs of pursuit. Finding none, he gradually let his chakra flow ease to nothing, merely leaping from branch to branch, finally dropping to the ground beside the water. He laid Kakashi on a mossy area and tore the cuff from his haori. He wished they'd had time to retrieve the packs from beneath the pine trees, but it was much too late to worry about that now. Nothing in the packs was necessary for their survival, although they would definitely have made things easier.

He dipped the fraying scrap into the frigid water and dabbed the spots of blood and dirt from Kakashi's skin. He pulled the porcelain mask from the silvered head, wincing as he saw a nasty gash almost hidden beneath the thick tangle of hair at his temple, and thanked the gods he'd taken the extra seconds to immobilize Kakashi by chakra point instead of merely knocking him unconscious. Luckily, little more of the spattered blood belonged to Kakashi. He wasn't unscathed, but the head wound was the worst hurt. Minato tended Kakashi's injuries with the small pack Rin had given him four years ago, settling an eyepatch into place and sitting back on his heels as the ANBU began to rouse. "Feel better now, Kakashi?"

Kakashi blinked awake, then sat up, scrambling backwards against the rocks. "Stay away from me!" He curled up in a small, tight ball, breathing hard. A few fat drops of rain spattered across the battered armor.

"Kakashi... It's okay. Everything's alright. I'm here, I'm okay. It wasn't me, it wasn't me." His voice was pitched low, soothing.

"No! You're dead, I saw it, I killed you! Stay away!" A fine sheen of sweat beaded the pale forehead and he sprang up, fleeing for the edge of the clearing.

"Kakashi! No!" Minato gave chase, his unnatural speed and Kakashi's stumbling confusion the only things that finally allowed him to catch the panicked youth, press his back against the rough treebark. He stayed close even as Kakashi's stomach emptied, and he moved ever so slowly, talking quietly, almost hypnotically, as his fingers rubbed soothing circles across Kakashi's back. Shit. This is not good. "It wasn't me, Kakashi. I'm still here, see? Look." He pulled open the haori and kimono, showing his chest. A faded scar crossed the upper left side of his ribcage, hooking up and over the collarbone. He caught a pale hand and brought it to his exposed torso, gently keeping the slim fingers entwined in his.

"Do you remember this, Kakashi? Remember how it happened? You'd just made chuunin, and I asked you what you wanted to do to celebrate. You didn't want sweets or ramen or a movie or anything any other new chuunin would have wanted to do. You wanted to spar with me. You didn't even fit into your uniform, yet, but you wanted to start training for jounin." And surely it was only the flickering lightning that made Minato look a bit sad and lost as he recalled events eleven years past, lifetimes ago. "We went to the training field by the river and you managed to slip through my guard and cut me. I fell backwards and hit my head on a rock and you thought you'd almost killed me. Sakumo and Jiraiya didn't let me forget for a month. Remember? It's me. I'm not dead, Kakashi." Please, Kakashi, you have to snap out of it. Now is not the time to give in to battle fatigue. Just see that it's me and I'm still alive. Just make it home and we'll fix everything then.

Kakashi was shaking his head, but he kept running his fingers across the scar, stroking the line as it went over the sharply defined clavicle. He trembled and quivered like the last unfallen aspen leaves in the forest nearby, whispering and murmuring like the quickening wind that shook them from the tree. "I never meant to kill you, Sensei, I didn't mean to..." The broken words fell repeatedly from chapped lips, and Minato could barely make out the next utterance, buried as it was amidst sudden hitching sobs and choking intakes of breath. "All my fault, I killed all of you. My team and my family all gone because of me."

Minato dropped Kakashi's hand and grabbed both shoulders, gripping hard and almost shaking him with his sudden intensity. "Kakashi... look at me." Minato waited until Kakashi dragged his unwilling gaze to his. "That wasn't me, it was someone else. I'm. Not. Dead. You can feel me, touch me, hear me. I'm right here with you, now." Minato dropped to his knees, pulling Kakashi with him, looking directly into the visible eye.

"Obito made his decision himself, felt he could better serve Konoha and his team by doing what he could to ensure you lived. Rin... I think maybe Rin... She'd seen too much, too quick, too soon. She didn't care anymore, just couldn't bring herself to move when she should have. Sakumo made his own choice, for himself, even though it affected you and so many others, and although I keep thinking there had to be another way, I can't really fault him for what he did, not when he believed it so deeply. Your mother... That could never be your fault, Kakashi. You didn't choose to be born or do anything to make the birth difficult. It just was. You couldn't have stopped any of them, didn't cause any of them. Sometimes, things just... happen, and they aren't anyone's fault, they just are." At his final words, the heavens opened up, releasing the heavy drizzle, soaking them in moments.

If Minato hadn't been watching so closely when he felt the first cold drops, he would have thought it was the storm, or Obito's eye, but streams of tears fell from both eyes, joining the autumn rain, both wetting Kakashi's face, the eyepatch, the torn mask pooled around his neck. Minato eased his crushing grip on the bare shoulders and slipped one arm behind the stiffly shaking back as the other futilely wiped wetness from red-blotched cheeks, smoothed drenched hair away from the face it hurt Minato to watch. Seeing the normally stoic Hatake grieving so openly hurt as much as the unwavering coldness he had displayed to Minato since their team had disbanded. Fallen apart.

"Shhhh, it's alright, Kakashi." Minato gathered him into a loose embrace, trying to calm and comfort, but comfort was something Kakashi had little experience allowing or accepting. He reacted to the hug as if it were a blow, struggling and backing himself into the tree's roughness. Minato held tightly. He couldn't let a confused Kakashi run loose in this weather with unknown pursuers gods only knew where. He wasn't sure if it was battle stress or the blow to the head or some combination of both, but he'd make Kakashi stay with him, make him see. He wouldn't lose another student, another teammate, another precious person. He couldn't. He'd promised himself. He'd promised Rin and Obito and Sakumo every time he offered incense and the prayers Kakashi didn't seem to believe in any longer. Every day.

Despite the wild struggles, the elbow striking his nose came as a surprise. To both of them. They knelt together in the mud, dripping and cold, Minato's clothing pushed hopelessly askew. Bright blood streamed from his nose, thinning and turning pink in the rain. Kakashi stilled immediately, staring at the flow. His eye was wide, pupil impossibly large and dark as he watched in sick fascination and dawning comprehension. "Sensei?"

Minato wondered if Kakashi even realized how telling that one little word was. He'd ceased being Kakashi's teacher four years ago. They were more properly kohai and sempai or ANBU and Hokage. Despite any interferences and political doings of the Council, the ANBU stood apart and always answered directly to the Hokage. That tiny slip showed him just how human and flawed Kakashi could be, how shaken and uncertain Kakashi was, and set off conflicting emotions within Minato. "It's okay, Kakashi. I'm not hurt, and we escaped. Everything will be alright." He'd make sure everything was alright. He'd promised. Himself, his team, and Sakumo.

Kakashi raised shaking fingers to Minato's face, wiping at a trickle of blood, not even feeling the seeping stickiness in his own wild mess of hair.

"It's only a bloody nose, Kakashi. Nothing serious. It isn't broken. You have worse injuries, right now, that you're probably not even acknowledging. Do you feel any headache, dizziness, numbness anywhere?" Minato pushed the hair back from Kakashi's temple, frowning a bit at the slight swelling.

"I'm fine." Kakashi sounded as if he might have been deciding as he said it, and he brought his own fingers to his head, probing and wincing when the pressure was too much. "It hurts a little, but that's all. I'm fine... I just... I..." Kakashi's voice trailed off, and he turned his face to the side, lowering his gaze, hiding as much of his visible face as he could behind his drooping hair. It was a gesture from earlier days, had been a response to Sakumo's disgrace, and later, the Uchiha's disapproval and the village's pity. He shrugged silently.

"Kakashi?" Minato brought gentle fingers beneath the stubborn chin, feeling the slight roughness of almost invisible stubble beneath his touch. He forced the barest hint of command into the name, turning it into an order. "Kakashi." Minato rarely used the tone with him, and the results were instantaneous.

The storm-grey eye met his, full of pain and confusion and something that Minato could not put a name to, something that lay in between unwilling desire and repressed longing. Pale skin flushed red, and breath quickened again, but no longer in confusion. Hesitant fingers caressed a tan cheek, touched the slick skin of Minato's chest before tangling in the material that clung in wet folds to Minato's body. He was dazed as lips pressed against his, not sweet, warm and pliant as in too, too many long nights' fantasies, but cold and stiff, chapped, bitter and salty with blood and tears. "Kakashi..." The name was but a breath, a prayer against clammy skin.


	5. Regret

Grey Dawn, Part Five - Regret

_Beloved, Grey Dawn Remix - VNV Nation_

_We were once young and blessed with wings_

_No heights could keep us from their reach_

_No sacred place we did not soar_

_Still, greater things burned within us_

_I don't regret the choices that I've made_

_I know you feel the same._

Fic written for a prompt from Vernajast and because I needed something to fulfill my angst quotient. Semi-AU, post-Kyuubi where Minato didn't die. Kakashi is 17ish. Overall rating M.

**Warnings**: Rated M for dark, mature themes. Violence. Angst. Severely edited mentions of smex. Not the roses, wine, candlelight, and silk sheets variety, despite Minato. This is a mission, damnit. He wanted tender fluffy stuff but that doesn't fit the story :) Only one more part. It's all coming to a head soon, for better or worse. Also thanks to lecanis and frackinsweet for input and quick read overs. And to blue bimbomushi... your latest story made this finish up and just flow... :) Unedited version will be posted at adult fanfiction net.

The storm-grey eye met his, full of pain and confusion and something that Minato could not put a name to, something that lay in between unwilling desire and repressed longing. Pale skin flushed red, and breath quickened again, but no longer in confusion. Hesitant fingers caressed a tan cheek, touched the slick skin of Minato's chest before tangling in the material that clung in wet folds to Minato's body. He was dazed as lips pressed against his, not sweet, warm and pliant as in too, too many long nights' fantasies, but cold and stiff, chapped, bitter and salty with blood and tears. "Kakashi..." The name was but a breath, a prayer against clammy skin

He tried to pull back, needed, had to know Kakashi knew what he was doing, what he was asking for, but the long pale fingers tangled in his clothing pulled more tightly, the lean body pressed even nearer, until only too many layers of clothing separated them, and still Kakashi burrowed closer, as if trying to climb inside Minato's very skin. Minato pulled the youth to his feet, backtracking to fetch the forgotten mask. He stopped beneath a sheltered stand of pines, pulled Kakashi into the scented haven. He quickly gathered strands of chakra, weaving genjutsu and ninjutsu together, cloaking them from detection, trapping their heat inside the improvised shelter. He stripped away his sodden clothing, drying the kimono with the simplest jutsu he could think of on such short notice. The coat and pants were hung over a small limb to dry, while the kimono was spread over the soft piles of needles on the forest floor.

Minato tugged at the straps of Kakashi's armguards, reminding him that he was still fully clothed and wet, if not dripping. He raised his hands to tug his armor free, but Minato batted them away, pulling the chestplate loose, piling it all off to the side, peeling the close fitting shirt over his head, mussing the already wild hair. Strong, capable fingers tugged at the fastenings of the dark form-fitting trousers, deftly unwound bandages, stripped him naked and defenseless. Only Minato's gaze kept him in place, barely leashed, nearly trembling with repressed power.

And then at a touch, Kakashi was a wild, struggling thing, all tooth and nail and powerful limbs. Only Minato's sharp hiss of his name and a firm hand to his throat could finally calm him. He looked deep into Kakashi's eye and slowly pushed back the patch, staring into Obito's as well, watching the sluggish circling of the red and black. And once again, Kakashi was aware, and himself. Too much so. Guilt and anguish warred with naked need in those suddenly expressive eyes. Minato pulled him to his knees, forcing him down onto the fabric. "Are you sure?"

"Sensei..." The voice was rough, broken, echoing the loss in his gaze.

"Shhh, Kashi." He ran long fingers across a quivering flank, watching closely. Warm lips kissed a path down Kakashi's neck, pressing against the pale slender column. Kakashi's head fell back with a deep shudder, eyes almost closed, neck exposed carelessly, and Minato couldn't hold back a groan at the sight. Don't. Don't trust me, Kakashi... I'm not worth it. Such trust, such utter and complete abandon, dropping all guards, was an aphrodisiac of sorts, something he couldn't ignore, not from Kakashi, and he knew he was lost, now, would give anything Kakashi asked, no matter the personal cost.

Minato kissed and licked and bit his way across the sharp collarbones, watched them turn pink, felt the cold skin thaw beneath his insistent touch, saw darker marks bloom against the porcelain skin. And everything tangled, melded together, Kakashi's need, his own long-repressed fantasies, the sheer stress of this mission, and the utter relief that they were both still here, alive, together. He'd dreamed of this moment forever it seemed, and it hurt that it wasn't how he'd imagined; Kakashi deserved better than frenzied rutting beneath the trees, animalstic sex driven by grief and need and hurt and the harsh necessity to stay grounded in the here and now.

Kakashi moaned and gasped and made a low, keening sound deep in his throat, and soon, Minato had a squirming lapful of frenzied ANBU. He pressed hard against Minato's chest, legs wrapped tightly around his hips, silently begging for Minato to make everything go away for a few too brief moments in time, to allow him to give up control and do nothing but feel. Minato's hands petted, soothed, slid across the cold, wet skin of Kakashi's back, cupping his ass and pulling their groins close, and Minato had to grit his teeth at the feel of the hard heat against him. His own strangled prayers and curses and utterances were swallowed by Kakashi's seeking mouth, and he fumbled in the fabric beside him for the tube of salve from the medical pack.

He whispered a tiny prayer of thanks and apology to Rin as he coated his fingers in the thick stickiness, feeling it liquefy a bit from the heat of his skin. He prepared and stretched and entered the man, watching his muscles tighten in beautiful agony.

Gods, he's beautiful like that. Panting and sweating, making those little noises. I have to see his eyes, commit it to memory, treasure it forever. Minato knew it was foolish and sentimental and that this was only mission sex, that no matter how he or Kakashi might already or eventually feel for each other, love and tenderness weren't a part of this; emotions would only hopelessly tangle and entrap Kakashi further instead of grounding him. But even if it was mission sex, and not the tender event he'd dreamed of for so long, it was his first time with Kakashi, and would still be remembered always for that.

He couldn't wait much longer. Just watching Kakashi's ever-changing expressions, hearing those addictive little noises, feeling the tight heat of him, smelling the mingled scents of sweat and musk and pine, tasting the salt sweet bitter copper taste of his mouth as he kissed him, all pushed him close to the edge. He moved impossibly slowly, feeling each ripple of Kakashi's movement. "K-K-Kakashi..." and he could barely speak his name, so overcome with sensation as he was. Kakashi didn't even try. He stuck with moans and gasps, although at times those were almost beyond his ability as well.

He stayed like that for several moments. He'd like to say it was purposeful, that he was allowing Kakashi to adjust, but that would be a lie. He just couldn't move, didn't want to, really. This was one of those perfect moments you wished you could capture in crystal, stop time and keep it forever... just. like. this. He didn't feel like a twenty-seven year old man, a teacher, a leader, a revered shinobi. He was young and scared and awkward and fumbling, cheeks flaming and limbs unsteady from too much sake, hearing his sensei's laughter from the next room of the brothel. And then the years rushed back and he was moving, kissing and biting, whispering against the scarred chest.

He pushed and pulled Kakashi, angling, hitting the spot within him, watching the increasingly pained expressions, knowing how closely he was teetering to the edge of the release that just wouldn't come. _Come on Kakashi, let go, you're there, let it happen, don't fight... _He stroked again, fast, slow, hard, and gentle. Small shocks of pain as he used his nails lightly, warm wet heat as he bent over carefully to kiss and suck. He couldn't hold back anymore, and it was a failure, a betrayal of the worst sort to leave him aching and hard, having grudgingly found his own release.

He pulled out, smearing the last remnants of his seed on Kakashi's length, dragging his fingers through the wetness, pushing them quickly into his own entrance, prepping himself with no thought to pleasure or comfort, only a burning need to share this with Kakashi, bring him back, remind him they lived and that life was good. It was the very essence of mission sex, and in a way maybe that truth was so universal that he could forego the romantic trappings, quit regretting the current circumstances, because above all things, Kakashi was a Konoha shinobi, and he was the Fire Shadow of the Hidden Leaf.

This was fitting, he decided, as he lowered himself down ungently onto Kakashi's rigid length. And it wasn't soft and tender and romantic. It was hard and fast and deep, but it was wild and beautiful, untamed in the same ways as Kakashi. He gave and gave and gave of himself in the guise of taking, his heart pouring out and bleeding, romantic ideals dying a righteous death as he brutally impaled himself on his onetime student, bringing the near-shattered ANBU mind back to this not right, messed up world that they shared. Kakashi arched with a scream, tensing impossibly tight, nails digging deeply into Minato's back, and Minato shuddered, watching, sinking sharp white teeth into a pale ivory shoulder. He held Kakashi close, petting and whispering, kissing and loving, as trembles subsided and frighteningly sane eyes raised to his own. For a moment, he was divine, as he saw a spark, the tiniest flare of everything in those dark, mismatched eyes. Then Kakashi shivered, eyes drooping, hiding the miracle from Minato again.

He set wards. They would both need the remaining night's sleep to make it back to Konoha tomorrow. He cleaned them both in the cold water from the pool, wrapping himself around the dear, pale limbs. They were strong and deadly in battle, but allowed this one moment of weakness and softness, allowed him to care for him only now. It was more than he'd ever have asked for and less than he ever could live with. He was damned, but as he drifted to sleep, he couldn't help but think he was blessed. They both were.

He awoke the next morning, in the cold, grey light of dawn, to empty arms. Kakashi was out in the clearing, gazing at the drifting mist, the fog that reached up only to his chest, blending in with his bone white armor, making him a disembodied ghost. He quietly brought a small mug of hot tea, a bowl of porridge made from oversoft fruit and wild grains. Kakashi quietly offered a leftover bit of honeycomb, quietly watching the golden liquid bead against rosy lips, reaching forward to wipe away one sticky drop. They ate quietly, companionably, and if Kakashi looked drawn and tired, it was to be expected. They erased all signs of their passage and began the long journey back to Konoha.

They arrived mid-afternoon and were whisked away, separated, allowed only time for a quick bath and leftover riceballs before they were taken for debriefing.

Minato had never been so upset seeing the gates of Konoha.


	6. Eternity

Grey Dawn, Part Six - Eternity

Beloved, Grey Dawn Remix - VNV Nation

Moments lost though time remains.

I am still proud of what we were.

No pain remains, no feeling.

Eternity awaits.

Grant me wings that I might fly.

My restless soul is longing.

No pain remains, no feeling.

Eternity awaits.

Fic written for a prompt from Vernajast and because I needed something to fulfill my angst quotient. Semi-AU, post-Kyuubi where Minato didn't die. Kakashi is 17ish. Overall rating M.

Warnings: Angst. Don't tell me I didn't warn you. more notes to follow at the end of the story...

Minato shifted uncomfortably in his seat, and concealed a yawn. He wasn't as lucky at trying to hide his rumbling stomach, and he considered exerting the authority of his office and reminding these bureaucratic wonders just who they were jerking around. He swore they did it on purpose. He mentally snorted. He wouldn't have put it past the council to have chosen these particular de-briefers purposefully. The advisers seemingly used every spare moment to push lessons and reminders and warnings his way.

It was dark by the time he started home. He'd had to recount events three times, once in front of a hastily assembled gathering of council members, and honestly, all he wanted was a hot meal and his bed, but he needed to talk to Kakashi. They hadn't spoken more than a handful of words outside of mission parameters since morning, and he had to see how Kakashi was holding up after the night before, but he'd already left. He stopped by the small apartment in the jounin bachelor quarters, but no one was home. He let it go for the moment; they'd talk tomorrow.

Tomorrow consisted of more of the same, in addition to his normal duties as Hokage. Kakashi was still nowhere to be seen, and he began wondering if the council had interfered somehow. He hadn't mentioned the incident with Kakashi, and he was sure he would never have admitted such a thing as long as it had no bearing on the mission. Another fruitless visit to the jounin quarters that night left him more than concerned, and he decided to track Kakashi down the next morning.

He went to the stone before daylight, waiting quietly in the darkness. Only the rustlings of small nighttime animals and the occasional distant barking of a dog broke the early morning hush. Even the wind was still at this hour, and he felt like he was the only person awake in the village, as ridiculous as he knew that thought was. He stretched out by the stone, so that only a corner of it intruded into his vision, and stared up at the still dark sky. The stars were beginning to fade already, although the bare lightening of the sky at the horizon was still hidden by the shedding trees.

This could be calming, soothing, if you let it. He doubted Kakashi felt this peace. He would cling to his guilt, what he saw as his failings. Maybe he derived some sense of comfort from that... Minato sighed, wanting to make sure Kakashi didn't add this latest experience to his long list of imagined transgressions. Birds began making their presence known in ones and twos and threes, calling and answering, heralding the arriving dawn. The cool dampness had seeped through the fabric of his pants and settled into his bones by the time he saw the first hints of peach and rose and gold mixed with the greys and purples of the twilight sky.

Joyous birdsong gave way to the background noises of village life, even secluded somewhat here away from the bustle. Hints of woodsmoke mingled with wet leaves and a crisp undertone in the air that he could almost taste. Still he waited, as dim shapes became visible and then details could be discerned. Daybreak came and went, was a full hour past when the ANBU guard finally showed himself.

"Hokage-sama..." It was a question despite the lack of inflection.

Minato never wavered, continued gazing into the heavens, watching the flitting clouds and the intrusive, ever-present cenotaph. He steadfastly ignored the tentative approach of his escort. A newly discovered dark, bitter side of himself wanted to laugh at the ANBU's hesitation.

"Sir. Your meeting with the council started ten minutes ago." Tone and words were neutral, carefully chosen.

Minato closed his eyes, deliberately, blocking out everything for a moment. He rose to his feet, grass-stained and wet. "Ryuu-san. Will you do something for me? Not as ANBU for Hokage... but... man to man. I'm asking."

The dragon masked man bowed. "Anything within my power and ability, Minato-sama. You have only to ask."

"Find Hatake-san. Find him and bring him to me, no matter what he says. I need to see him. Please." Minato managed to keep the pleading note from his voice. Barely.

The dragon-masked nin nodded, leaping away without another word.

Minato stepped forward, brushing the names incised in stone. Honzou Rin. Uchiha Obito. Hatake Sakumo. Namikaze Takeshi and Yoko... each name a hero, none more important that the rest, giving the precious gift of their lives for the village. He knew many of them, had heard of others, but even those unknown to him were precious. He loved this village deeply, would gladly give anything asked, required of him, for the good of the village. He lit a stick of incense, bowing and clapping, seeking reassurance and guidance from those who had gone before, asking them to impart wisdom and discernment in his upcoming conversation with Kakashi.

He prayed, communing, becoming one with his surroundings, and finally sat back on his heels to wait, cursing each eternity he waited. He watched the angle of the sun as it rose above the trees, ticked off each second, minute, hour as the fiery orb climbed toward its zenith.

A hint of a breath announced Ryuu's solitary return. The man kneeled at his feet, head bowed low until Minato touched the uncovered spiral on his arm.

Ryuu looked up at his leader, eyes glinting behind the dragon mask. "Hokage-sama... he is... nowhere to be found. I think... perhaps you should go to the council meeting..."

Minato cursed, fluently and with such invective and creativity that Ryuu was impressed.

"Feel better, now, Hokage-sama?" He asked wryly after several minutes, when Minato started repeating himself.

"Not particularly, no." Minato's hands were clenched at his sides, and he was trying very hard not to level any trees, or buildings, or people, with a rasengan, or three, or five, despite what a lovely target the council would be. He knew in his bones the bastards had something to do with it. "I'll go. Just don't let me kill them. No matter how much they deserve it."

"No fear, Hokage-sama. Ask them what you need to know and I'm sure a suitable crisis will need your attention. In fact, I can almost guarantee it. We'll come up with something to get you out of there, as soon as you're ready. I still have a squad of men trying to find information about Hatake-san's whereabouts. He's one of ours, Hokage-sama, and we belong to you, not the council."

· · · · · ·

The meeting hadn't gone well, but then he hadn't expected it to. Some things were self-fulfilling, but as much as he hated defeatist thinking, he felt maybe this assembly was doomed to fail, destined to founder, decreed so by fate, itself. He knew things were going to go badly when he received no more than a mild reprimand for his tardiness. Half an hour late, and it was dismissed as a mere annoyance.

Homura-san recapped the most recent political happenings, as always, making scant mention of the repercussions from the death of a minor daimyo and the disappearance and supposed rape of his house-guest. And there were consequences rebounding through their world. Alliances were shifting and a minor skirmish, at the very least, loomed on the horizon. It was the perfect environment for the darker side of their ninja arts. Assassination, kidnap, intrigue. All would flourish under these conditions. He'd still not completely reconciled himself to sometimes basically being the head of a glorified band of overly frighteningly skilled mercenaries.

He sat silently, listening, mind churning, turning over the ramifications of the recent days' events. And then everything clicked, fell into place, and if his heart wasn't aching for the cruel trick fate and the council had played, he might even have laughed. Only one good thing had come from this. He had finally seen through their games, their lies, their scheming. There would be no more.

He stood, expression somber, the light from the window turning his hair into a golden crown, a halo of light about his head. "Where is he?" He didn't bother to specify the he. They knew. He accepted no demurrals. They knew. He cursed them to every hell any religion ever imagined, because damnit, they knew and he hadn't. He waited in icy anger. They'd gone behind his back and he knew they'd sent him away, He wondered if they'd given him a mission or just worded things so that Kakashi thought it was for the best. "Where is he?"

He let the chakra gather in his hand, let the merest fraction of his temper bleed through, and with steely glances, they grudgingly shared their information. He sat down roughly when he heard how they had sent him there, sent him back to scout for information about the other daimyo, the one whose sister was missing. He stopped listening when they told him Kakashi had begged them to send him away, anywhere, had left in the night, hours before dawn, and he knew he couldn't even send a man after him to bring him back, not when his life depended on his stealth. One man could slip through where even two would be caught. His only choice was to wait for Kakashi to successfully complete his mission, to come back to him and let him explain.

· · · · · ·

He knew Sandaime was both pleased and worried. He'd wrested all control from the council; they were no longer more than the advisors they should have been, and that was a step forward, but Minato was no longer the laughing, boyish man who'd captured the hearts of the village. He was still loved, but where before, the looks had been fond and affectionate, they were now pitying and troubled, and he no longer cared about the difference.

A month had passed since his mission with Kakashi. A week had passed since the girl had been returned to her family, completely unharmed, her nurse and her mother punished for staging the kidnapping to allow her to marry the more malleable younger brother she loved. And still Minato waited. The situation was stabilizing, and except for the bands of men roaming the countryside searching for the daimyo's murderer, peace and a marriage alliance still appeared a likely ending to the debacle.

He waited as the days turned to weeks, weeks to months. He waited, doing his duties uncomplainingly, but silent and unsmiling, and his eyes strayed to the constantly open window, as if he could force Kakashi to appear.

And still he waited.

· · · · · ·

It was the beginning of February, and he forced a smile as one of the younger academy students shyly presented him with the crocus. He looked at the small sign of spring, and allowed himself to hope. Surely Kakashi would be home soon.

His days passed in endless rounds of meetings, constant paperwork, with his eyes flitting to the open window, listening to the birdsong and the sigh of the wind, waiting for that silent presence, the feeling of the ever watchful eye upon him from the sill, and he looked up at the presence of a dragon-masked ANBU captain.

He inclined his head. "Ryuu-san. I hope you've been doing well."

Better than you, my friend. "Well enough, Hokage-sama. Sir... a member from the council is here, along with your sensei and Sandaime-sama."

Minato considered sending them away. He wasn't interested in hearing the inevitable lecture on choosing another wife. Kushina was dead. He'd allowed the council to push him into one loveless marriage. He would never endure another. He loved Kakashi, and would listen to nothing while he was still away.

But it was Sandaime-sama, and Sensei. They wouldn't push him beyond reminding him of his duty to the village. He wordlessly nodded to Ryuu, waving him to usher them in. He evenrelented enough to sign for tea to be brought in.

Minato stood, welcoming his guests, despite his desire to be alone with his work and the open window now at his back. "Sandaime-sama,Koharu-sama, Jiraiya-sensei." He inclined his head in recognition, indicating chairs for them to be seated.

Jiraiya looked to Sandaime, and the former leader came forward. Jiraiya carried a small cardboard box and an envelope. "Minato... " He paused, obviously searching for words. The standard formulas were woefully lacking, and instead he spoke from the heart. "I'm sorry, Minato, we just received word. You were named last of kin. I'm sorry to have to tell you this, but he's dead." Sandaime stepped forward to enfold him in a tight embrace, trying to lend him strength and solace. Jiraiya silently placed the container by his side, placing the envelope on top, ruffling his hair as he had when he was a child.

He noticed every detail, almost hyper-aware of his surroundings. He saw the sloppily tied knot, and slightly disheveled hair, as if Jiraiya had been hastily roused from bed. He noted the tightness of the councilor's face, the odd expression that on another person might have been guilt. He watched the shine of tears in the Third's eyes as he took in Minato's stunned silence.

Instinct took over, providing the words he could barely say. "Thank you for informing me. I appreciate your sympathy. I'd like to be alone, now, please." He knew he was stiff, but he was holding himself together by the most ragged of strings, needed to, had to be alone to let it all go.

His mentors looked at each other for a long moment and nodded, touching his shoulder as they departed silently with the council member.

He waited until he heard the door click shut and fell to his knees, slmping against the box, such a small pitiful amount of things to reduce a life to, but they were all he had now, other than memories. He allowed himself to think, drift, breathe, and just be for a moment. Actions Kakashi could do longer do. Somewhere maybe he'd known this would be the end of everything, mourning him like this, but he'd held onto optimistic belief beyond all expectation as he always did... and he felt something inside him crack in two. He'd like to think it was his heart, but knew it was the permanent death of hope

Random thoughts crossed his mind and he thought of a barely remembered story he'd read long ago, a foolish, curious girl who'd opened another box, releasing all the evils upon the world, leaving only hope inside, fragile and near broken, but there. He shoved the box away from him, focusing on the envelope and carefully slitting it open with his kunai. He fancied he could still discern Kakashi's scent in the very paper.

Sensei,

I'm sorry. I'm weak and scared and afraid of what will happen if I stay. I'm a liability to you and to myself as I am, now. I requested a mission of the council so I can get myself back together enough to return to you. I wish I had dared talk about what happened with you, but I was afraid if I did, I would never leave, and I care for love you too much to do that to you. It will be better this way, a short time apart until I come back to you in control of myself. Will you still have me?

Ever your student,

Hatake Kakashi

· · · · · ·

Ryuu quietly entered, several hours later, found him lying curled silent and unresponsive around the small unopened box, a paper lying by his trembling hand.

_Once there was Hope. Without Hope, only Discord remains._

End

I apologize for the ending, partially. I know it's unhappy, unsettling, not what anyone wanted, but it was how the story happened. It isn't right to force the story into an unrealistic happy fairytale ending, so I didn't, and for that I won't apologize. I tried to keep things realistic throughout, didn't descend to over the top maudlin feelings, not matter what this once realistic idealistic Min wanted. Even this Min wouldn't kill himself without it being for the good of the village, even mourning Kakashi... He wanted to though, oh how he wanted to... And yet again thank you to Vernajast, for encouragement and more... for reminding me of the next to last thing to fly from Pandora's box and providing a perfect way to end this... for firming my resolve to end this story the way it needed to despite my reluctance... your recent writings were such lovely inspiration, and now you see why I said our minds were on a twisted version of the same track lately... I finally finished a multi-part fic after a year of writing... (and i ssort of/s killed Kakashi on his birthday... is shot eep) for good or for ill, that's it :) Thanks for reading and I hope it didn't disappoint too badly.


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